


Like mother, like son

by bloodandcream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Reminiscing, coda s12e1, the whole family has had sex in the back of the Impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8288065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodandcream/pseuds/bloodandcream
Summary: As much as the Impala screams everything but settled down complacency, Mary had loved that car the instant she saw it and was too stubborn to admit until John had wheedled and bribed her a little bit.





	

She’s all sleek curves and power. Black finish gleaming in the wide open garage of the bunker, surrounded by other cars that are classics in their own right, but she’s the only one that Mary sees. Chrome accents shine, she’s polished and even more pristine than when John had brought her home.

Mary can remember the brief spark of anger she had held for all of a minute. John was supposed to get a van. They were supposed to start a family. Make practical decisions. Be normal together.

Mary had wanted it with all her heart. John, a family, a settled life.

He had promised her the horizon.

As much as the Impala screams everything but settled down complacency, Mary had loved that car the instant she saw it and was too stubborn to admit until John had wheedled and bribed her a little bit.

They’d already courted, and made their plans. Promises spoken and unspoken. But Mary couldn’t help feel like a young sweetheart being wooed when John picked her up for drive-in movies and they necked in the back of that car.

There are some parts to her memories which are admittedly hazy. Or even non existent. She had always told herself that it was normal, to remember the most important parts while the rest fell away to make room. Now, Mary can’t help but wonder what parts of her life were so pivotal they would shape the decades to come, and which she doesn’t remember.

Good memories are quick to spring to mind, though.

John driving to the make-out point which overlooked the humble skyline Lawrence had to offer. The warmth of breezy summer around them and the sounds of night outside the car, windows rolled down. The easy give of leather seats beneath her in the backseat, legs all twisted up playing puzzles to fit together, John’s face pale in the moonlight and his eyes bright.

Mary can clearly remember the first night that she sat in the backseat of the Impala - lay in it, really - but it was certainly not the last night.

Even though those are some of the more intense memories to come to mind, there are too many to count that take Mary right back to those years when the world made sense.

Seeing how many moving boxes they could fit in the trunk and back seat, blocking out the rear mirror. Weekend trips spent camping away from the city and work and responsibilities, when they were still young and able to set that all aside for themselves. Bringing Dean home from the hospital, before carseats were a legal requirement like when Sam was born, and he was just a pink fussy little bundle in her arms while John beamed from the drivers side.

There are many questions on her mind and an inherent wariness of the situation, for as overjoyed as Mary is to see her boy again. But the Impala, she is an old friend. A familiar face. A comfort.

Standing from where she had leaned to peer in the back seat, Mary catches the look on Dean’s face as he turns away from the car and from her. Of course, for all the years the Impala has been his sweetheart, she must have seen a few things.

Like mother, like son.


End file.
